


A Generic Mistletoe Fic

by Intruality_Overlord



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intruality_Overlord/pseuds/Intruality_Overlord
Summary: Logan hates mistletoe, Patton doesn’t know, cue misunderstandings.
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	A Generic Mistletoe Fic

December first.

Mistletoe.

Damned mistletoe.

Death, big and or small, dangled above their heads daringly. The glossy white berries glared at him. Logan glared back. Fluttering leaves like eyelashes, it tried tempting with its mockery of puppy-dog eyes. He wasn't sure if he was being dared to eat the berries, or ignore the basic principles of consent. Neither option appealed.

Tradition.

Damned tradition.

What was so important about it? How could "But it's tradition!" be a valid argument when it's so vulnerable to subjectivity. Tradition was only obeyed when convenient, and burned and spit on otherwise (like it most often should be).

No.

He refused.

How was he expected to burden him with an unwanted kiss because of the mere pretence of seizure berries looming above the two, high and smug with tradition's permission? Mistletoe stole the meaning, the intimacy, and consent. A kiss under mistletoe was like assuming the ocean was only as deep as it was clear: That stars were only as big as your naked eyes told you so. Shallow as a puddle, small as a firefly, trivial as a handshake.

If a kiss ever were to happen between them (especially the first), it would be on their own terms, rather under an understanding of boundaries, with full knowledge of requited affections. _And certainly not with an audience hidden horribly **next to** the lamp obnoxiously screeching and taking photos, Roman._

Logan side stepped out of the kitchen doorway.

When his eyes settled on Patton, still frozen in the doorway, his cold glare melted as the tension in his jaw slacked. Patton was taking quick shallow breaths that visibly flexed his rib cage. His eyes were wide, and they took a moment catching up to track Logan's movement.

Strangely, Logan felt himself not in the mood for giving a big lecture. Clutching the cup of coffee he came to the kitchen for, he escaped back to his room.

He refused. He ignored the mistletoe.

~•~

December twenty third.

"Salutations, Patton," Logan said, leaning on the kitchen doorway with otherwise impeccable posture. A question was tucked under his tongue, ready to spit out at the first opportunity.

Patton startled mid-step as he looked through the cupboards. "Oh! Hi—" Patton chirped, spinning on the balls of his feet to face him, "Oh, uh, Logy!" But he reflexively whipped back around as soon as he saw Logan. Finding Patton in the kitchen was unsurprising. Lately, Patton had been popping in and out of the kitchen very frequently. He always found some excuse, "Silly me, I forgot a napkin," and, "Silly me, I forgot my, uh, chopsticks?" Frankly, Logan didn't think Patton really was so forgetful, in his humble opinion.

Tipping his head back, Logan's stare locked on the white seizure berries. They had been joined by tinsel framing the doorway, as well as a few Christmas ornaments over the course of December. Everything was love heart themed or had a red pallet. Although cheesy and confusing (why were they here when they had a perfectly good Christmas tree—), Logan had to admit, the decorations had a charm to it that the mistletoe wasn't contributing towards.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Patton preparing a mug of hot cocoa. Considering how many of those Patton had chugged in the last couple of hours, Logan was surprised he wasn't having a sugar rush. (It was also odd Patton wasn't regulating his intake of sugary treats.)

Sparing him a glance, Patton's stirring slowly halted. His eyes swept across the mistletoe, and lingered on Logan.

Then snapped back to hyper focus on the boiling kettle. Noisily, the spoon clinked as he stirred the milk and chocolate powder. Some spilt on the counter from his twitchy movements.

The kettle finished boiling. The clinking spoon became louder.

"Who hung up the mistletoe, Patton?" Logan eventually asked. (He'll admit he wasn't great at segways.) He had his suspicions with Roman, but concluded that it was a biased hypothesis considering any one of them could have done so. Asking Patton, a naturally honest person, was the obvious next step in finding the culprit.

Patton nearly dropped the kettle while he was pouring.

"I—" Patton set down the kettle, seemingly not trusting his hands. Red highlighted his freckles.

"I forgot the marshmallows," he muttered, and made to dart out of the room. But he paused, watching Logan expectantly.

"Who hung up the mistletoe?" Logan repeated. When silence took over, Logan finally rested his eyes on Patton and his fidgeting.

...

Patton caved easily. "I did..." he said. He couldn't help it. Not when that stare gave him so much attention.

_What?_ That... made sense, but wasn't what Logan expected. The right puzzle pieces wanted to fit together, but they weren't the correct orientation yet.

"Why?" He said, as if the answer wasn't obvious. It threw off his assumption of the mistletoe being just a prank of some sort. Shoulders hunched, Patton whispered, "I was hoping that... the person I like would kiss me. But clearly..." and he trailed off.

Logan was so confused. Only because he couldn't scrunch his nose and eyebrows any further did he realise he had in the first place. He short circuited. "Why don't you just ask?" He said, baffled. Bowing his head, Patton watched his shuffling feet, too. "I don't want to be too forward," he shrugged.

"And this approach isn't forward?"

"W-well I— I um," he stammered, "I just thought— If... he liked me, surely he'd take the opportunity to kiss me. It would be romantic." Patton's hands couldn't pick between playing with the hem of his shirt and rubbing his arms.

"I don't find anything about mistletoe to be romantic," Logan said bluntly. Directing his eyes back to the mistletoe overhead, he tried to take the pressure off Patton. Maybe the lack of his watch did make him more comfortable or he shocked him, because there was a long pause before Patton's feeble, "What?" Poor Patton was becoming wobbly.

Enough, Patton's nervousness was becoming contagious.

Logan's expression softened into a smile, which barely qualified as such, yet was genuine. Movements slow and obvious, he rested his hands on Patton's shoulders. With gentle coaxing, he guided Patton's shoulders to relax. Warmth from his palms seemed to help ease the tension further. Once again moving slow and obvious, he took both of Patton's hands away from where they tugged at his sleeves. In both hands, he clasped them protectively in a hold loose enough to shake off. Logan thought Patton needed gloves.

Intently, Patton watched him with widened eyes with widened pupils.

"Mistletoe," he began, "makes the kiss because of an obligation." Logan swiped his thumbs over Patton's chilly fingers. "Not because of love, like it should be," he softly explained in short. With a puff of warm air, Logan continued to rub warmth into Patton's hands. It seemed to work as Patton flushes pink.

A heartbeat of quiet. Not silence, a comfortable quiet.

"Who do you like?" Logan asked quietly, his hope leaking into his tone. "U-uhm," Patton's voice cracked. His frenzied eyes dashed around, however never left Logan's face. Especially not his docile smile.

"I l-like you," Logan took a leap of faith. Pink smudged across his cheeks and nose.

Patton squeaked, "O-Okay?"

"What does— wha— what does that mean?"

"I like you, too," Patton said at last, sighing in relief.

Logan smiled infinitely brighter. So bright, the grin looked like an alien star on him. "In that case..." He drew Patton into his chest, into the kitchen doorway, under the mistletoe. "Can I—"

"Can I?" They both said in sync.

"Yes—"

"Definitely."

Patton giggled, "Absolutely."

Logan began to lean down, and Patton was already on his tiptoes. Their lips meet halfway in a gentle press. Through the kiss, slow and sweet, Logan tasted the spoonful of chocolate Patton had sampled. Of course, he just thought it was the flavour of Patton. When they eventually broke apart, Logan said, "In the future, just talk to me. Yeah?"

"I will."


End file.
